Margaret’s life at the nursing home was quiet, marked by long days and distant memories that clung to her like shadows. Each day blurred into the next, but one thing remained constant—the small, worn key she always carried. It was more than metal and weight; it was a tether to a past filled with love, color, and the laughter echoing through her once lively home.
Her garden, in particular, bloomed endlessly in her mind—a place of peace, of life, of her. But as time went on, her memories began to feel more like dreams, and the key in her hand started to feel like it belonged to a door that no longer existed. Then one day, a knock on the door changed everything…